Cool Coconut #3

I float free under the bluish-black sky
In the empty lot next to the county fire station
Across from my grandparent’s house.
When there’s an emergency
The lights and sirens call out, strident and bright.

But tonight the only sounds are those of
Myself and my cousins, Jeret and Clay.
I’m older by two and four years, respectively.
Unlike them, however, I’m new to the scene
That plays out before us.

They circle around and scream or squeal
When they catch a little blaze of nature.
I just stand in the middle, taking in the
Beauty and temporality of the unpredictable
warm flare of neon green/yellow.

The spark is like a tiny bit of the sky
Turned tangible and intimate.
This lot is my shoebox diorama of the whole universe
When the darkness of space descends
To frame little bug-stars and child-planets.